


whatever it may be, bring it to me

by bokutoma



Series: a city elf, a champion, and a mage walk into a bar [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-07-24 19:36:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16181768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokutoma/pseuds/bokutoma
Summary: kallian tabris, a troublemaker and dreamer beyond what most of the alienage can tolerate, finds she can actually picture a happy life when she meets her husband to be. naturally, this means she must be stripped of even the little rights she had left, sacrificing herself to untold violation to save those she cares about.bloodshed and ruination seems to be her destiny. if it is, so be it; kallian will take what life gives her, turn it around, and deal it back tenfold.





	1. give it to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the beginning

Were it any other day, it would have been one to celebrate.

The air was not so stagnant as it had been for the past week or so, the unforgiving walls of the alienage slipping in their guard and allowing a breeze to caress the tips of pointed ears like a lover. The scent of sweet bread hung low and heavy, blanketing the square around the vhenadahl with levity and pleasant busyness. Outside her makeshift bedroom, someone was singing, wordless where the old tongue had been forgotten.

Still, Kallian could not rejoice.

A party from Highever was due to come before night fell, in the unhurried, bugswirled air of the evening. Perhaps she would like it there, when she inevitably returned with them; perhaps things would be different. If she was lucky, this Nelaros would share her passion for the blade, and would help her get work and make her living in a way she could enjoy. She could grow to love him.

Kallian was rarely lucky, unless you thought of luckiness in the sense that _shem_ men did.

Which, she supposed, what _shem_ men meant was all that mattered. 

_Happy eve of your wedding, Kallie. You sorely need the well wishes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just an intro. i average abt 1k per chapter, so don't worry!


	2. shirts, ties, and marriages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soris and kallian drink to forget their parting.
> 
> nelaros may be the turn of her unlucky streak after all.

The alienage was never quite so lively as the night before a wedding. 

As per tradition, once the wedding party arrived, the prospective spouses were to be kept apart. Naturally, this meant the whole population of the alienage made a game of trying to help then attend to their business without letting them see each other. Grown adults, those who had long put away their folly for the harsher truths of the world, ran like children, giggling as they called out locations to each other, ensuring that the sight of each spouse would be kept a surprise.

"A pleasant surprise indeed," Kallian drawled, leaning against Soris with the kind of familiarity that came with growing up attached at the hip. "I hope he's a sight sexier than Taeodor's friend. He was a looker right up until the clothes came off."

"I met your betrothed," Soris replied, his cheek coming to rest on her head. "I'll trade you for him. Mine looks like a mouse."

"I thought you liked them on the timid side," she teased. Soris shoved her with his free arm, and she tumbled laughingly to the ground. She lunged back at him until their scuffle devolved into a full-blown wrestling match - involving a fair bit of hair-pulling on his end and tickling on hers - until Kallian came out on top, posing triumphantly as she straddled him.

Then someone ran into the corner of Alarith's storeroom, where they had hidden away to escape the noise, to announce Valora's approach, and they clambered out the window, bumping their heads as they tried to shoulder past each other, and took winding back allies to pilfer alcohol from the gift stashes of their neighbors before climbing into her bedroom.

Soris popped off the corks of two bottles of wine in an easy way that she had always been jealous of, and handed one to her. "To us?" he asked, patting the space beside him so she could curl up against him.

She complied readily, tucking her head just below his chin. It felt like the space was made just for her, had always been made for her, and she fought back the wash of heat that prickled at the corners of her eyes. Stealing a mouthful of wine, she ignored it, proclaiming, "To our perpetual happiness. May I terrorize Highever, and may you not cry yourself to sleep every night for missing me."

"One of those will be significantly easier to pull off," he teased, poking her in the ribs as she scowled. Then, bound in the melancholy knowledge that, come mere days from now, they would no longer be able to do this, they drank until they passed out, his head resting on her stomach, her hand tangled in his hair.

* * *

Naturally, it was Shianni who woke her on her actual wedding day.

Rather  _less_ naturally, it was still ages before dawn, the moons hanging like swollen, sated lovers in the sky.

"What?" Kallian snapped blearily. At some point in the scant amount of time she had been asleep, Soris had stolen the bed, and her back ached from the hard ground.  _Bastard._

Shianni wore that infuriating grin of hers, that one that promised Kallian she was either going to love or hate her for what she said next. "Are you interested in meeting with your fiance?" she asked, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Perhaps she would allow Shianni to live, just this once.

"Maker, Shianni, what could you have planned at such a scandalous time for a rendezvous?" she gasped, attempting the eternally affronted countenance of a Chantry sister, despite the grin that tugged at her lips.

"Get up, you bitch," Shianni groused, but the same fond light remained present in her eyes. "If you want to find out whether your betrothed kisses as good as he looks, then you'd better get a move-on to Alarith's. I told his friend to send him to the alley behind."

"Thank you, cousin dearest," Kallian said, winking and blowing her a kiss as she climbed over Soris's slumbering figure - kicking him once or twice in what  _might_ have been an accident - and through the window. "I'll regale you with the full story once the sun rises!" 

Then she was outside, bare feet against cracked, dry dirt, her wrinkled skirts swirling around her legs in the languid breeze. There were few people out at this time, preferring to save their revelry for the night of the wedding itself, and Kallian counted herself lucky; with the drink still in her veins, she felt a little more sluggish than usual, and she didn't count her chances of remaining stealthy very high.

The space behind Alarith's shop was surprisingly wide, and branched off in multiple directions, making it an ideal clandestine meeting spot. She saw no sign of anyone else, however, and so contented herself with counting the cracks in the wooden frame of the store until a hand landed on her shoulder.

She whirled, dagger flashing out of her sleeve to connect with - nothing. A handsome blond elf had caught her wrist, though he had stumbled, allowing her to nick the skin of his wrist.

"Not the reception I was hoping for," he laughed, out of breath from the speed he had used. "What a shame that would be, to end up dead on the knife of my betrothed."

"Nelaros, I presume?" Her voice remained oddly steady, considering the dual tightness in her chest, born of two completely different kinds of panic.

He nodded, and now that she had the chance to look at him, she could say with certainty that he was leagues more attractive than Taeodor's friend. His eyes were the clear blue-gray of Satinalia skies, and his profile seemed hewn from the wood of a vhendahl, were she given to such fanciful thoughts.

She did not trust him, as she did not trust most attractive men, but, with her wrist stinging, she thought she might have an easier time falling in love with him than she had suspected.

He seemed to be taking her in as well, and she felt an uncharacteristic flash of self-consciousness. Normally, she cared very little what anyone thought of her, much less a stranger, but something about the prospect of forever laid her bare before him.

She hated it.

It was exhilarating.

"You are...very beautiful," he said, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth. Faintly, she thought about kissing it.

Instead, she snorted. "Flatterer," she accused, but she found she didn't mind it so much. "But I suspect you didn't come here to talk."

His small smile bloomed into an entire grin, and Kallian found herself unconsciously mirroring it.

"You deduce my intentions accurately, my lady," he said, bowing mockingly. "But it is my understanding that we both hope for the same thing."

She reached out, tangling her fingers with his, pulling him into the shadowy alleyway that led to the empty apartment she used for these midnight encounters. "You would be correct about that." She pulled him closer. He smelled like smoke and wild things, and she ached. "So shouldn't we get started?"

"Lead the way, then."

The walk was a haze, excitement thrumming through her veins. Nelaros's palms were worn and calloused against her own, and they fit against the scrapes and ridges of her hands in a way that, were she given to flights of fancy, felt as though they were meant to be.

The window stuck halfway up as she tried to sneak in, and Nelaros laughed lowly behind her. "This is a true test of my patience," he said, his hand disentangling from hers to run along her side. She shivered.

"You're distracting me." She tried to sound irritated, but found she couldn't keep the smile from her voice. "If you want your patience to remain relatively intact, you'll let me get this open."

"Fine, fine," he teased, but he only dropped his hand when she navigated her shoulder under the frame to wedge it open.

He was just as graceful as she was as they climbed through the window, and a thrill ran through her at the thought of him participating in the same little acts of rebellion.

The room was dark, his features only faintly highlighted by the moonlight. Kallian studied his frame, mapping out every inch of him, but she couldn't quite meet his eyes. She licked her lips, raising her gaze, golden brown meeting blue, and she was  _nervous._

"So..." he said, and there was a hint of strained laughter threaded through his voice as well. It was oddly comforting, knowing that he felt the same way.

"So," she replied, and pulled him closer.

"Let's get to it?" he asked, one hand coming up to cup her cheek, the other resting at her hip.

"Alright," she breathed. Then she pulled him closer and kissed him with all the feeling and passion she possessed.

It tasted like liquor and good luck, and she thought that perhaps she didn't mind fairy stories so much if they ended like this.


	3. losing light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wedding

Morning came, and this time, it was her father who woke her up.

"Good morning, Kallie," he said, beaming with so much pride that she swore he might combust. "Shianni actually wanted to let you rest, but I was so excited I couldn't wait."

Despite the bleariness that still remained in her gaze, she smiled. Cyrion hadn't always been the most supportive of her life choices, especially her decision to take after her mother and pick up the blade, but there was no one who cared more deeply for her. 

"Thank you," she said, and he looked as though he might cry.

"I'll let Shianni come in and help you get ready," he said, gaze darting away in a futile attempt at hiding his tears. "I just...I'm so proud of you, Kallie."

Before she had the chance to respond, he backed out of her room, then the house, face flushed in embarrassment, as her cousin burst in, hands fluttering in excitement.

"So?" Shianni asked expectantly. "How was he?"

A wry grin twisted Kallian's face at the thought of the response she was about to get. "I wouldn't know," she replied, beginning to undress.

"What?" Shianni shrieked.

"It's true." She folded her nightclothes and tucked them away before looking at the wedding dress with trepidation. "We were going to fuck, or have sex, or whatever you want to call it, and we did get fairly close, but...I like him, Anni, and he likes me, as far as I can tell. We just talked. We wanted to know each other before we bound ourselves together."

"Very unlike you," her cousin teased, taking the garment down and loosening the complicated ties. "Could this be love?"

Kallian threw her an unimpressed look before taking the dress. ""You're absolutely ridiculous, you know."

"And you love me for it."

They dressed her in silence until a sniffle stopped Kallian. She turned, surprised, to see Shianni doing her best to combat the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes.

"Anni?" Kallian reached out a tentative hand, one so unlike her usual demeanor that a detached part of her almost laughed at the disparity. "What's wrong?"

"You're leaving," her cousin said, breath catching in her throat as her voice trembled. "You're leaving me, and I should be happy for you, because you've always wanted to go, but I'm going to miss you, Kallie."

"At least Soris will still be here." Though her voice didn't break, she ached at the thought of losing her two closest friends. Regardless, mourning wouldn't help; it would only make the inevitable sting more. "You can teach Valora about all the trouble you can get into here, and Soris can teach her to fight. It will be like I never left."

Shianni smacked the back of her head, a garbled laugh wetly coloring the sound of her frustrated sigh. "Bitch. You know damn well that neither Soris nor I are pleased about the trade."

"Well, at least you get to stay," Kallian retorted, pulling her arms through the dress's sleeves.

"Kallie-"

"It is what it is, Anni." Though her voice was carefully light, her tone was final. She didn't want to think about this before she had to. "Lace me up?"

"Of course," Shianni replied, and that was that.

* * *

The first thing Kallian did upon dressing was hunt for Nelaros. Of course, she was not supposed to have seen him, which made it difficult to search without raising suspicion about the previous night's activities. It was good that she ran into Soris when she did; his presence allowed for more subtlety than hers alone.

"Shianni told me all about your misadventures last night," he teased when she found him. "How unlike you not to sleep with him."

She elbowed him in the ribs, laughing as he coughed in surprise. "I'm fortunate enough to have a betrothed who's both handsome  _and_ interesting. I have the rest of my life to carry on torridly with him."

"Yes," Soris sighed dramatically. "Please do go on about how you made an incredibly fortuitous match while I'm left with a woman who shrieks at the sight of dust."

She was about to make a crude joke about size when she was interrupted by a shrill scream.

A bridesmaid wrenched herself from the grasp of a leering human man.

"Grab a whore and let the party begin!" he called to his companions as he prowled forward.

Shianni immediately stepped forward, fists clenched in anger. "This is a wedding, you shem scum! Get your sick fantasies fulfilled at the Pearl. We'll have none of your lechery here."

"What's this?" the man asked, stalking close to the redhead. "A volunteer? How absolutely wonderful."

Shianni yanked her arm back as he reached for it, and Kallian had had enough.

"I see how it is," she snarled, stepping forward even as Soris frantically motioned her to stay out of it. "No woman can even pretend enjoyment from your undersized, diseased prick, so you force yourself on others to forget what a miserable, pathetic life you lead, is that it? You make me sick."

The only sign he had heard what she said was the dangerous flash in his eyes. "The bride herself, begging for my attention?" he asked, a crazed smile on his face. "Where's your groom? I'll make sure you're nice and loose for him."

"Do not take another step closer," she commanded, showing no hint of surprise even as he temporarily paused at her tone. "You are a bug beneath my boot, not fit to even look at me. You will leave, and you will not bother us again."

"Insolent bitch!" he cried, raising a hand to strike her. She was not afraid.

From behind him, Shianni shattered a vase against his head, and the man collapsed to the ground.

"Are you daft?" his companions asked, seemingly awakened from the stupor that had taken hold of the alienage since they had arrived. "That's Arl Urien's son!" With that, they grabbed their unconscious friend's body and fled.

"Oh Maker, what have I done?" Shianni cried, sinking to the ground.

As Soris went to comfort her, Kallian, still numb from the shock of what had happened, barely heard Nelaros approach.

"Shit," he said, and she was rather inclined to agree.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> both tarot and writing commissions are open on my tumblr @ghostheirin!!!
> 
> hope to see you there !


	4. every one of them had the taste of money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trials and tribulations

The wedding, if it could be called that, was a blur.

Kallian had done her best to put Arl Urien's goat-fucker of a son from her mind and focus on the festivities, but Nelaros has sensed her lasting fury even before Soris, and even the promise of mischief hadn't been enough to raise her spirits.

Still, her betrothed had done his best, squeezing her hand when he saw the storm clouds ready to break along her face.

It wasn't much, but it was all any of them could do.

She had nearly believed that today, at least, would be free of repercussions. Her hand-sewn gown, the whitest, cleanest thing she had ever owned, fit her like a glove, and her father had looked at her with nothing but pride for the first time since she had picked up a sword.

There had been another human, one armed with both blade and the distinct aura of danger, but Valendrian had known him, called him Duncan, friend,  _Warden._ He had announced his intention of finding a recruit, and before Nelaros, before well and truly knowing him, she would have leaped at the chance. Duncan had wanted her mother as a recruit, had spoken highly of her, but her heart was already tipping somewhere she had never guessed it would lead.

Soris had done impressions of the humans, even Vaughn, all to lighten the mood, and though she had laughed, she had  _known._ Would that she had just listened to her instincts.

Valendrian's speech had been grand, if a bit boring, and it had hit her in that moment that she would never see any of these people again.

How right she had been, for Vaughn had crashed in with a contingent of soldiers, one of them pinning Shianni's hands to her back before Kallian could even think to tell her to run.

Valora was next, as well as the prettier bridesmaids, and then the stuffed-shirt lecher's gaze had turned her way.

"Ah, and there's my prize!" he had cried, his grin so wide and unnatural that it took all of her willpower not to shudder in disgust. "I thought the bitch who bottled me would be a nice enough piece of quim, but you...you  _are_ a well-formed little thing, aren't you?"

"Taking advantage of women won't earn you your father's attention, brat," she had retorted, and spat at his feet. From the corner of her eye, she had seen Cyrion recoil in horror and Valendrian's weary sigh, but Nelaros had given her a quick, fierce smile.

She would  _not_ go down without a fight.

"I suggest you choose your next words carefully, whore," Vaughn had hissed, striding closer until Nelaros blocked his path. She did not cower. "Unless they are an apology or a cry for my cock, do not speak them."

"I do not fear the mewling cries of shemlen whelps."

He seethed, and the very air around him seemed to darken with his rage. "You insolent bitch-"

"Take a step closer and let's see how brave you are without your friends to defend you," Nelaros interjected.

"Shut it, worm!" Vaughn attempted a backhand, but Kallian's betrothed was quicker, and he caught the lordling's wrist with far more ease than he had caught hers. He wrenched it away with a scowl, but did not attempt another. Valora shifted just behind him with a nervous squeak.

She had itched for the knife she usually kept in her boot, and cursed herself for not thinking she would need it.

"Fight me like a man, then, like a future arl would," she had sneered, and though she knew it would end in her eventual death, she was determined to knock this brat down a peg or two before then. "Prove that you're more than your daddy's title."

Incensed, he had swung at her, and Nelaros had slid aside like water. He trusted her, then, and that was all the fuel she needed to duck under the blow.

The momentum had been enough for her to spin back and angle her elbow up, slamming it into Vaughn's core with a satisfying  _whumph._ He wheezed, and she had slammed the heel of her hand into what would have been his nose had he not turned to the side. She hissed, having hit pure bone instead, and shook out her hand.

"I thought we were  _pets,_ my lord?" she had bitten out. "Surely you can handle a stray dog, or are you as incompetent as you appear?"

"I'll have you _begging_ for me by the time I'm through," Vaughn hissed, swinging another fist in a perfectly formed right hook.

The problem with finding something perfect was that it merely hadn't been tested enough to expose its flaws.

He had let his rage eat at him, and so was overbalanced. Kallian did not let anger consume her; no, she poured it into her weapon, be it limb or blade, and focused on ehr target with hawklike clarity.

She had unbalanced him with brutal ease, and as he slammed ass-first into the carefully erected wedding podium, she had allowed herself a quick, vicious smile before she decided whether to kick his teeth in or ensure that the blasted Kendall line would never have the chance to continue.

" _Kallian_!" someone had screamed, horrified and high, but she was too slow, and the blow connected.

She had blacked out before she even hit the ground.

Maker be merciful, she did not want to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @bokutoma // @chellick
> 
> twitter: @deracinatin


	5. i'm not afraid of god, i'm afraid of man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HI PLEASE BE CAREFUL READING THIS THIS IS THE NONCON CHAPTER  
> YOU DON'T NEED TO READ IT IF THIS UPSETS YOU  
> I DIDN'T SLEEP AFTER WRITING IT  
> IT"S NOT HORRIBLY GRAPHIC BUT I WANT YOU TO KNOW
> 
> ft. a "friend" from sgg

The first time Kallian had woken, it had been in a cold, darkened room. She only had sense enough to tell that it was dry and decently furnished, so she had at least escaped a jail cell. Immediately, she kicked out, hearing a heavy swear and another, more muted curse near her head.

She flailed instinctively, though she only had the vaguest idea of what was happening. Her eyes struggled to open; Shianni was there, and Soris's blasted betrothed. Someone was screaming.

"Shut up, bitch!" a guard cried, and the sickening sound of iron rending flesh reverberated throughout the room. Kallian tried to redouble her efforts, but something seemed to be dragging at her joints, and her head ached something fierce.

"Can't we just kill this cunt too?" she heard someone say, and she couldn't tell whether he was slurring or her hearing was going south as well. "A lot of fucking effort, even if she does got nice tits."

"Have," she tried to say, but her tongue sat heavy in her mouth.

"No, Vaughn wants her first. Said she owes him or some shit like that. Might be the knife-ear what nailed him, least that's what Ardmore says."

"Can we at least put her back to sleep? She's kicked my balls twice now."

"Suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing to happen to her."

Pain bloomed against her forehead, and the world darkened once more.

* * *

The next time she awoke, she thought Vaughn had decided against violation and skipped straight to dumping her in the harbor.

She sputtered and coughed, bolting upright and attempting to scramble to her feet. A pristine boot caught her in the side, and her hands slid against slick stone.

"See how she scrambles now!" a now familiarly snide voice scoffed. "How low the righteous have fallen."

Kallian's voice rasped rough and angry against her throat. "Still couldn't put me down yourself, you ugly bastard."

"You really ought to just cut out her tongue," a nasally, foreign voice called boredly from the corner of the room. "Talking is only fun when they're trying to appease you."

"Shut up, Augustine," Vaughn spat. "You're barely even a man."

She tensed, hoping to draw little attention to herself while the Kendall heir and the boy (he really couldn't be more than a couple years younger her) squabbled.

"And I'm already a damn sight better at this." Augustine yawned. "Pay less attention to me and more to your toy. She's planning something."

"No, by all means, keep talking," she hissed as she clawed her way to her knees despite the ringing in her ears. "I'm sensing some tension that the two of you might want to work out."

"Don't be a brat. It doesn't help your case any." She tried to see what the boy was fiddling with, what she could use to her advantage, but injury made her clumsy, and he spotted her with ease. The blighted demon grinned and flipped his palms over to reveal...nothing. Then, tiny tornadoes spun out from the center of each hand. His grin turned feral as realization dawned on her face.

Of all the blasted creatures Vaughn could have befriended, this one had to be a fucking  _mage._

Kallian's life was about to get infinitely more difficult.

"I didn't think they let the  _touched_ mages out of the Circle," she sneered, hoping her disdain hid her fear adequately.

"When Vaughn's dear dad parleys with a son of Tevinter, anything goes."

 _Tevinter._ She had only heard legends and what little Alarith was willing to share about his homeland, but gilded rooms filled with corpses were about the least of it.

Looking at Augustine's polished smile and deadened eyes, she couldn't think of a more apt comparison.

A knife glinted on the third man's belt. She did not know if she could contend with magic, did not even know how she would begin to go about it, but she had to try.

Head swirling, she lunged for the knife, though she miscalculated and took the man down at the knees instead.

"Shit!" he cried, and the world blurred into action.

Someone grabbed for her hair, though she felt it a moment before he touched her, and she rolled, tearing the ornamental knife free of its flimsy containment with a bestial growl.

She slashed up, hit some measure of flesh. Vaughn charged her, and she was too slow, only able to absorb part of his force with an arm bar. Her head cracked against the hard stone of the wall, and something split; wetness began to pool.

She could not stop now.

The unfamiliar hilt was too large for her hand, but when she sliced at the lordling's chest, she carved a brutal indication of her fury.

He howled as she bared her teeth in a ferocious snarl and went for the killing blow.

Kallian's hand froze in the air, the blade of an overly expensive dagger hardly an inch from Vaughn Kendall's throat.

"I think we've all had enough of the foreplay, hm?" Augustine drawled, though he had neither lifted a finger to help nor been injured. "You're like a feral cat. No matter how you struggle, you'll die of disease and starvation anyway. Might as well be of some use to your betters, kitty."

Maker, how she longed to stick this cursed dagger in his eye.

He didn't seem to care that fire still burned in her eyes. No, that wasn't quite right; he saw it and delighted in her helpless rage.

"Now that we've cleared that nonsense up, Vaughn, be a dear and move her to the bed or the desk or wherever you want to fuck her, yes? It will be far easier when I let go than making you drag her kicking and screaming."

"Why can't you just hold her still the whole time?"

"Oh?" The bloody wound that was Augustine's mouth curved into a haunting imitation of a smile. "You never told me of your proclivity for corpses, my lord/"

"I beg your  _pardon_?"

"I'm just saying, it's not a very far leap to make." He shrugged. "Besides, it's more fun this way. Also, I don't feel like it."

Vaughn shot him a nasty look, and if Kallian hadn't loathed him for his participation, she might have laughed.

The lordling dragged her by the arm and pushed her face first onto his bed, and panic began to claw its way up her throat.

The bed dipped, and the world went white.

She tried to flip as Augustine released her, but Vaughn was there, and he wasted no time in tearing into her.

She clawed wildly behind her, felt her nails catch in the wound that steadily oozed blood onto her back, further shredding it.

"Bitch!" Vaughn hissed, turning her so he could hit her square in the face.

Kallian blinked back black as she continued to struggle, but she continued to fade in and out as her attacker bled her dry.

He finished with spurts of his released all over, startling her into clarity, and as his friend came to take his place, she kicked out, hitting him in the crotch.

The ornamental knife appeared at her throat. "Keep struggling and pay the price," Vaughn hissed.

She merely twisted her body in an attempt to strike him as well.

Augustine, unmoved from his perch but for the freeing of his cock, sighed loudly.

"Vaughn, dear, don't be an idiot. Death would be a mercy even if she didn't get to spite you." He snapped his fingers, and she could no longer breathe. "Listen, kitty, about that pretty redhead? Yes, you know the one. Shianni, I believe she was called. For every additional struggle you put up, we'll double her pain. I know you must not think much of these two, but we understand each other, yes?"

Her breath returned, and she sucked in a greedy lungful before nodding grudgingly.

"Ah, I can't seem to hear you."

" _Yes_!" she spat out around a mouthful of blood.

"That's better." He stared at her, a grinning ghoul, and though everything about this situation should have terrified her, she knew he was the truest horror. "Do  _you_ understand  _me_?"

What choice did she have?

"Yes."

Kallian endured, just as she had every single  _fucking_ day in this shithole that was her world, and prayed darkness would take her soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @bokutoma // @chellick
> 
> twitter: @deracinatin


	6. i set my course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the beginning of the end (for vaughn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> topic is still fairly sensitive...be warned

Kallian had had enough of waking up in unfamiliar places.

At least this room was one she had already been in. The women were still crying, still praying, and she wanted to rant at them, rage that they weren't doing all they could to free themselves, but with the multiple releases of three separate men dried on her legs and sticking all over her body, she would have been a hypocrite.

She had not even struggled when Augustine had taken his time. He had taunted her, exposed every weakness he had, and she had taken none of the numerous opportunities he had given her.

It had all been for Shianni, but, Maker forgive her, she did not know if she could go through that again. She did not know if anyone was worth that to her.

"Kallian! Kallian!" someone called, and it took everything in her not to lash out.

" _What._ "

Valora recoiled. "There's no need to be mean."

This time, she  _did_ lash out, ideals be damned. The mouse's head snapped to the side with a satisfying  _crack,_ and her cheek reddened. Kallian hoped it would bruise.

"When you have endured  _half_ of what I just did and crawled back after sacrificing yourself for ungrateful  _cunts,_ talk to me about  _mean._ "

Valora sniffled. "We're all going through the same thing-"

"But that's the thing, isn't it? So far, I'm the only one who  _has,_ and the only one who fought, and what did I get for it? Double the pain and a bunch of miserable wretches who can't appreciate how good they have it even in a shit situation."

There was a jug of water in the corner that she was certain hadn't been there before; it was a mercy, even if it was small, and she washed what she could from her skin and her hair, then drained a bit more to drown the taste of their spend.

Alone, she curled up in the far corner and closed her eyes, hoping that Shianni was getting off easy, that this hadn't all been for nothing.

Some time later, the door opened, and a child-faced guard slid through, quiet as anything.

"Do you need more water?" he whispered, as though that would do them any good if someone saw the open door.

The others nodded, but Kallian only raised her gaze to stare at him, dead-eyed, and hoped it haunted him.

The next few minutes blurred together, and when the door opened again, she prayed it was Shianni, returned to them at last.

Instead, it was Soris.

Valora squealed and raced toward him, but he was already tossing Kallian a sword, grim determination on his face.

"We were too late, weren't we?" he asked, and she nodded tiredly.

"Though maybe not for Shianni, not totally." She eased herself up on battered legs. "We?"

"Nelaros came too. He fights like a bloody demon is in him. We'll make it out."

"And the weapons?"

"The Warden, Duncan, he gave them to us. Said he would be fighting with us if the Wardens were allowed to be political."

Shakily, she swung the sword. Satisfied that it met her needs, at least for now, she bared her teeth in a vague approximation of a smile. "Don't suppose he happened to give you any poultices?"

Nodding, Soris tossed her one, frowning when she fumbled it in trembling hands. "What's the plan?"

She sneered. "Send them to the Void."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @deracinatin
> 
> tumblr: @chellick // @bokutoma


	7. the holy grail of unstoppable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she's got a taste for revenge

Every step Kallian took felt as though it would be the last one she could manage. She was stiff, her muscles aching, and though the poultice Soris had given her helped, the injuries she had sustained before... _before..._ still smarted.

"Kallie," Soris whispered, and she clenched her fists. 

" _Shut up!_ " 

It wasn't terribly hard to navigate the arl's estate; once upon a time her father had worked here, and from the stories he used to tell and Soris's prior travel, she and Soris were able to navigate with relative ease.

Once, she thought she saw the young guard. He was patrolling with someone else, but it seemed a casual affair; regardless of whether Nelaros had been seen or the fuss had reached everyone's ears, no one expected anyone to be this close to where the captives were imprisoned.

Kallian had yanked her cousin into the shadows, clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his shout of surprise before they could be seen. The boy stared into the shadows, and though he couldn't have known, he seemed to see right into the depths of her before hurrying his companion on.

The silence of the halls was deafening.

"This way," Soris whispered, and when they opened the door he guided them into, it led to a dining hall half-filled with arrogant guardsmen. "I have poison-"

"And I will have  _blood,_ " she hissed.

"Isn't that one of the elf bitches the little lord brought back?" one of them called, somewhere between disinterested and cautious.

The hollow smile that stretched across her lips felt as though it possessed her. Soris winced. Her legs were going to give out.

" _Surprise._ "

The first began to shout; Kallian had already pilfered the knife her cousin kept in the waistband of his trousers, and it embedded itself in his throat before he could do more than gurgle.

The world blurred into motion that her exhausted mind could not begin to comprehend.

Luckily, her body could.

The mouthy guard lunged for her, and though she did not know, she saw and she felt, and it was with one fluid motion that she drew her sword, clumsily hidden as it had been, and gutted him.

"Tabris," Soris snarled, frustrated with her recklessness, and  _yes,_ that felt better, far more suitable than Kallie, who was never soft but still quite foolish, who had managed to escape from reality for eighteen years with little more than bruises.

Still, he fought by her side with admirable grace and skill; she had nearly forgotten that Adaia Tabris had trained him too.

A dozen guards, and the fire in her that ached for vengeance had not subsided. A dozen men's blood stained her wedding dress, already defiled beyond beyond measure, and she could not keep her mind from that coldly luxurious room. A dozen guards dead, and she hungered in a way that would not subside until she had Vaughn's head.

"We're close to where I left Nelaros," Soris said as they continued to prowl the halls of the estate, macabre specters dressed in rags and blood. "There seemed to be an eternal outpouring of those damned soldiers. I hope they eased after he made me go."

That was the spear that pierced the fog of her brain; Nelaros had fought, had been in danger to keep her safe.

Her legs burned, but she broke into a run.

"Tabris!" Soris cried, but she didn't give a damn who heard her, whether the wetness that coated her was her blood, someone else's, or a memory of unspeakable things.

Nelaros was in danger, and she would not see him hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @ghostheirin
> 
> tumblr: @chellick // @bokutoma

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on twitter @ghostheirin!! i have commissions open, and money gives me food so i can motivate myself to write lol
> 
> also, please leave comments! i wanna hear what you think!


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